


The Not-So-Great Expectations of John Constantine

by niennavalier



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Constantine (TV)
Genre: Based on Arrow 4x05, Crack, Funny, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennavalier/pseuds/niennavalier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Constantine was ready for a nap. A good, long one, to be precise. Getting that bloody staff hadn’t really been as easy as he’d originally hoped, especially considering the deserted island hadn’t been quite as deserted as he’d expected. But, either way, he’d gotten what he needed, and the job was done. Simple as that. All that was left? Time to celebrate success with a beer and some highly deserved sleep.</p>
<p>     It was a good plan, and he was quite intent on making sure it played out.</p>
<p>     He should’ve known it wouldn’t go that smoothly.</p>
<p>     AKA: The one where Chas expects a little too much of John's manners and things don't go quite according to plan for all parties involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Not-So-Great Expectations of John Constantine

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, stupid crack fic that my brother came up with because of Arrow 4x05. Pretty much what would happen if John met the Queens with the knowledge that Oliver was still alive. It's ridiculous and was totally just written for kicks.

     John Constantine was ready for a nap. A good, long one, to be precise. Getting that bloody staff hadn’t really been as easy as he’d originally hoped, especially considering the deserted island hadn’t been quite as deserted as he’d expected. But, either way, he’d gotten what he needed, and the job was done. Simple as that. All that was left? Time to celebrate success with a beer and some highly deserved sleep.

     It was a good plan, and he was quite intent on making sure it played out.

     He should’ve known it wouldn’t go that smoothly.

     Sauntering down into the millhouse, he set the staff down on the table with appropriate bravado, watching Chas glance at him before returning to the book he was poring over. “Thought you said this one was gonna be easy. Took a lot longer than you said.”

     “Yeah, well, things got…complicated. Turns out that bloody Chinese island was a lot more trouble that Jasper claimed.”

     “Complicated?”

     “As luck would have it, we weren’t the only ones on the hunt. Not that it really matters, though.” John leaned forward and tapped a finger on the table next to the staff. “We got it. ‘n’ besides, I met a nice enough bloke there. What was his name?” He crossed his arms, tilting his head. “King, was it? Er, no, no I’ve got it…Queen? Yeah, yeah, that was it. Queen.”

     And suddenly Chas was standing up, eyes narrowed, though John was damned if he knew why. “Queen? As in Oliver Queen?”

     “Now that you mention it, yeah.” Now it was John’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You know ‘im?”

     “I feel like I should be surprised you don’t.”

     “What? Oh, wait, I think I got it. Was he that one crazy fan when the band - ?” That line of questioning stopped when Chas actually threw his hands up in the air.

     “Unbelievable. Oliver Queen, the millionaire who went missing two years ago?”

     A pause. “Huh.” Now that Chas had mentioned it, yeah, the bloke looked familiar; he remembered seeing the face on the news. Hadn’t thought much of it, though. Never really cared for gossiping about the fates of rich playboys. “Well, that’s nice to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” John turned, ready to execute his original plan.

     Too bad he’d barely moved an inch before Chas was talking again.

     “Did you tell his family?”

     “Why?”

     The incredulous sound coming from Chas’ throat was a little amusing, to say the least. “Why? Now that’s rich, even for you.”

     “Look, mate.” John turned back around. “There were a whole lot of not-so-nice blokes there, too, and this Oliver – he said he wanted to stay. Really, if he’s not dead yet, it’s not gonna take much longer for that to happen. Not much we can do, and we’d best not get their hopes up, eh?” He patted his friend’s shoulder with an easy grin.

     It only took a couple seconds of watching the disapproving look on Chas’ face before John found himself lifted into the air with a squawk and carried out of the millhouse, no matter how much he tried to struggle back.

     Well, there went his plans for the night.

* * *

 

     If it wasn’t clear enough yet, John Constantine _really_ didn’t want to be here. Hell, he didn’t even get to sleep in the truck on the way, what with Chas pestering him the entire time. Just all _Oliver Queen this_ , and _Oliver Queen that_ and in all honesty, John was getting more and more done with the man, despite the fact that he’d left him on that island. He barely even knew what this Oliver’s personality was bloody like! What sort of answers did Chas want?

     So, really, it came as no surprise when Chas very near had to drag his extremely pissed-off friend from the truck and bodily haul him up the steps to the mansion (although John himself was a little confused as to how they’d even been allowed past the gates in the first place, not that he really cared all that much, though). He had absolutely no desire to be here; what did Chas not get about _there’s no point he’s probably dead anyway?_

     Chas ringed the doorbell as John hung back, leaning against a pillar and pointedly ignoring the glances thrown back his way. After all, Chas could drag him here all he wanted; making John tell the story “the right way” was another matter entirely. Because, well, it wasn’t like he didn’t feel bad for the Queens, but Chas was just being ridiculous.

     A security guard in a rather nice suit opened up the door, an older, blonde woman standing just behind him. “Hi, Mrs. Queen,” Chas started, removing his hat all the while. John rolled his eyes and did his best not to actually groan out loud at the formalities. If he had to be stuck here, couldn’t Chas at least get to the bloody point?

     “You have news? About my son?”

     “Yes. My friend here,” Chas turned back toward John, who shot back an outwardly charming smile, watching the annoyance flash through the other’s eyes, “said he saw him while on a, ah, business trip.”

      Okay, John was definitely laughing at that one later. Business trip? Please. Chas could do better than that.

     “You mean, he’s alive? Oliver’s alive?”

     “ _Was_ alive.” John spoke up, never leaving his spot, making a show of examining his nails. “I can’t say that’s still true, though. More likely it’s not, really.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Look, your boy’s stuck on an island where there were a lot of not-so-nice blokes, too. They don’t seem so keen on making friends, but your Oliver wanted to stay, and I wasn’t gonna stop him. Chances are he’s not gonna be able to fight ‘em all off by himself.” He was repeating himself. Chas really owed him. “He did save my life though, so I did give him a little protection. Nothing huge, though, so don’t be getting yourself too worked up over it.” John glanced over at Chas, raising an eyebrow that clearly conveyed his message: _Happy?_

     Except for the fact that at that exact moment, a younger girl came rushing to the frame of the door, and John couldn’t help but cock his head a little at her. Both Oliver and his, what, sister? Whatever, they were both pretty damned attractive.

     “You protected him?” she asked. “What do you mean, _protected him_? How?”

      “Oh, I poked him with my magic golden stick. Made him feel things I’m sure he’s never felt before,” John delivered, careful to leave any inflection out of his tone, watching as Chas rolled his eyes at the incredible nonchalance.

     The girl was cute as the confusion played out on her features. “What do you – I – no, Ollie’s not gay.”

     He smirked. “Oh, no, I wasn’t talking about that. _That_ I only get out on special occasions. Special occasions like you, perhaps?”

     Next thing he knew, Chas had an iron grip on his upper arm, dragging him fast and far from the Queen family while attempting mediation and apologies all the while. Not a minute later, and John was shoved back into the passenger seat of the truck, Chas slamming the driver’s side door behind himself.

     There was a moment of silence.

     “You’re unbelievable.”

     “Look, mate, you thought this’d be a good idea. I didn’t. Now, who turned out to be right, hmm? Don’t act like I didn’t warn you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I love John. This was just a bit of fun. Because I'd never written for the Constantine fandom somehow. Weird.


End file.
